


Belt of Venus

by voicedimplosives



Series: Atmospheric Optics for Beginners [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Not Like A Lot of Plot Though, Romance, Smut, Some Plot, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-23 23:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voicedimplosives/pseuds/voicedimplosives
Summary: Her eyes were just sinking closed when she heard him murmur, “Move in with me.”“To the facility?” she asked, roused by her surprise.He shrugged, but by now Darcy knew him well enough to see the feigned indifference of the gesture. She smiled, a warm happiness spreading from her stomach to her limbs, and slung her leg over his.“What about the commute? It's an hour and half to Albany,” she countered.“So ask me to move in with you,” he offered, grinning sheepishly when she raised her eyebrow at him. “Isn't that what you modern dames do? Grab the bull by the horns, seize the day?”





	Belt of Venus

Bucky shifted, settling himself deeper inside her, and Darcy whined wantonly in response. He looked up from where he had been laving her right nipple, the skin now a dusky mauve from his attentions, and he grinned at her, thrusting again slowly. Darcy tilted her hips, hitching her thighs higher up his sides, and silently blessed the gods of prophylactics; she'd finally gotten herself on the pill and the feeling of him, sans barrier, dragging against the walls of her cunt without worry was short-circuiting her brain. While she was here blessing things, she added labor unions to the list, for the invention of Friday nights, and the unhurried, decadent nature of sex that came with them.

He bent down again, licking a stripe up her left breast before turning his attention to her nipple and in response she dug her blunt nails into his flesh bicep and the tense, shifting muscles in his lower back. He groaned at the feeling and ground into her so hard she felt herself slide across the bed. He dragged her back by the hips, then leaned up and onto her, panting in her ear, “So—so fucking good. Scratch me again, Darce, fuck you're so wet, so tight, it's too good."

He accompanied this compliment with another dip of his hips but added the unyielding pressure of a metal thumb on her clitoris. She rewarded his attention to detail by skimming her hand across his back then down to grab his ass, pulling him closer and trapping his hand between them as he continued moving above her. With her other hand she dragged her nails across his unmarred shoulder blade, exulting in the sharp, off-tempo thrust and the lewd moan that poured from his lips as a result.

“I... I need...” He was muttering nonsense in her ear now, and pushing her nails along his scalp, she grabbed at his hair and pulled his head back, whispering, “Take it, Buck. Whatever you need, I'm up for it. Just...keep...y—your hands on me...”

He pulled out of her, turning over and sitting with his back against the headboard. She crawled over him and he twisted her to face his bent knees as she straddled him. She rested her back against his broad chest as his hand came up to hold her steady, his fingers spread wide over her sternum as the metal hand directed her hips down towards his. She slipped his cock, still slick from being inside her, back to her slit, and sank down on him. They both groaned, enjoying the slow and steady torture of the moment.

“Fuck... so deep...” he panted. He thrust up into her, and this new angle brushed against a bundle of nerves that had her keening, her nails excoriating the flesh of his thighs as she pushed her body back against his and let her head loll back to rest on his shoulder. “Never, Bucky...” she whispered, trailing off as she pushed herself up, using his knees for balance, before dropping down again and pushing her hips forward, grinding against his pubic bone.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say it for me, please, doll.”

“The... best...” she wheezed.

“Nuh-uh,” he whispered, stilling his hips, his hands holding hers still as well.

“Never has anybody _ever_ fucked me this good,” she turned her head, mumbling into his neck.

“Nope,” he said, smirking.

“I want to carve a monument to your dick and put it on the front lawn of the Stark mansion,” she tried, grinning saucily when he pulled his neck back to make eye contact with her.

“Try again,” he teased. She nipped at his jaw, trying to get him to move his hips, and in response he pinched her nipple, hard, before rubbing it gently. Still he didn't move, and held her fixed on his lap, his dick warming and filling her but not giving her what she wanted.

Her expression softened and she relented, kissing the sensitive skin on the shell of his his ear and whispering, “James Buchanan Barnes, you've ruined me for all other men, and I love you beyond decency.”

He smiled widely at that, his mechanical arm coming up to lightly grip her jaw and direct her lips towards his. He kissed her sweetly, then returned his hand to her hips to support her while she pushed up off him as he pulled back. They let gravity do the work for them when she slid back down. His metal fingers returned to her clit and when the muscles in her stomach and thighs began to shake from the strain of riding him, he slid his right arm down to hold her by the waist, supporting her. He planted his feet more solidly then started working her up to her third orgasm, driving into her from behind and breathing, “C'mon, sweetheart, come for me,” in her ear.

Darcy had never been one to refuse Bucky an earnest request, so she pointed to a particular spot on her neck, which he sucked on bruisingly, and then she came, her cunt spasming around him and her legs twitching; he snapped up into her wildly for several seconds more until she felt him throb inside of her, then he stilled. For a moment they relaxed, boneless and spent, into the pillows behind Bucky. He continued gently petting the lips of her pussy, where they opened around him, and she raised one arm to reach behind her and grab his hair. “Now you,” she whispered into his neck.

“Hell, doll, I think I loved you from the moment I set eyes on you,” he uttered dazedly, both hands resting on the soft skin of her stomach possessively.

Even after he pulled his softening cock out of her, she made no move to climb off him. They dozed for a while, sweaty and satiated, enjoying the soft haze of sex and love in the air. There was no rush for them in this moment; she wasn't going to think about the repercussions of the Meta-Humans Registration Act being passed in the state senate last month, she wasn't going to think about the Professor or the endless coordination that still needed to be done with Ororo to establish their Wakandan safe haven. Right now Darcy just wanted to feel his damp, hot skin on hers, his hands tenderly caressing her, her entire body rising and falling with each deep breath he took. For now, they had the weekend ahead of them, there was nothing she could do about any of it until Monday, and they had earned this time for themselves.

Finally, Darcy felt goosebumps rising on her skin as the sweat cooled, and she pulled herself off of him, reaching for her gossamer Wakandan blanket off the end of the bed and wrapping it around herself. The golden ratiné warmed her but its loose weave meant that Bucky could see every dip and curve of her silhouette as she slid off the bed and padded out of the bedroom. He drifted off for a minute while he listened to her clean herself up then move around the kitchen, preparing a drink, before appearing once more in the doorway. He watched her body greedily, obscured by the fine wool and yet so exposed, and reached out an arm to her as as she crawled towards him with a tumbler of whiskey in each hand. She leaned into his side, stretching the blanket to cover his chest and sharing his body heat. She leaned in and kissed his shoulder softly; he took a sip of his drink and sighed with contentment.

Her eyes were just sinking closed when she heard him murmur, “Move in with me.”

“To the facility?” she asked, roused by her surprise.

He shrugged, but by now Darcy knew him well enough to see the feigned indifference of the gesture. She smiled, a warm happiness spreading from her stomach to her limbs, and slung her leg over his.

“What about the commute? It's an hour and half to Albany,” she countered.

“So ask me to move in with you,” he offered, grinning sheepishly when she raised her eyebrow at him. “Isn't that what you modern dames do? Grab the bull by the horns, seize the day?”

“And you're the bull, huh?” she joked, swatted at him lazily. “Okay then, wanna move up to Albany and be my live-in boytoy?”

He gasped exaggeratedly, sloshing a little of his drink on his chest as he grabbed at invisible pearls with mock horror. She leaned into him further, licking the dark liquor off his skin, then leered at him.

He watched her approvingly, and when she ran her hand down the tight muscles of his abdomen to reach for his dick, she could already feel him getting hard again. “What exactly are my privileges doll, as a live-in... boy-toy? Do I get to keep my self respect?” he asked, finishing his drink and taking hers from her hand to place them on the bedside table before turning back to her.

Again she laved the spot where the liquor had beaded on his chest, then leaned down to take the nipple below it in her teeth before blowing on it lightly. “This.” She licked her hand, then closed it in a tight fist around the base of his cock, sliding it up before gently rubbing the leaking precome she found there into the head with her thumb. “This.” Her other hand cupped his balls, rolling the sensitive skin around her palm. “This.” She leaned up and his lips met hers eagerly, they kissed messily for several long minutes while she stroked him, then she pulled back. “This.” She climbed over him and lowered herself between his legs, then took the head of his now engorged cock in her mouth, rolling her tongue around it before sliding her lips down as far as she could take him. She slid back up, letting him out of her mouth with a slight pop as she breathed, “This.”

She eased herself up and into his lap, sliding her weeping slit along his cock as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “How's your self respect feeling?” she whispered in his ear.

“It'll survive,” he said through gritted teeth.

“And... what do you think of my elevator pitch?” she panted, as he rolled her over, blanket fallen forgotten beside them, and dragged her hips up to rest on the lap of his bent legs, then slid himself back inside her, hands on her ribs to steady her.

“I'm...” he groaned, leaning into her body and pulling her leg up to rest on his shoulder, then pushing so deep she thought she saw stars, “....sold.”

*

“Captain, what is that aroma I smell? It is truly divine,” Thor cried to him as she entered the kitchen and came to stand beside him in front of the stove. She looked down into the large wok where he was stirring a sizzling mixture of eggs, noodles, chicken, peppers, onions, peanuts and cilantro. She wrinkled her nose. “Hmm, pad thai?”

“I'm a big fan of the dish, but the takeout is so expensive... I figured I could probably recreate it myself. There's plenty here...” he offered, shyly. He always felt shy when he and Thor weren't talking Avengers business. She was just so... unabashed. Everything she did was decisive, and somehow no matter what she was wearing, from a sports bra and spandex athletic pants while they trained to her ornate silver armor when she journeyed to Asgard to something ordinary like the jeans and sweater she was wearing now, she always seemed to have the perfect bearing and dignity of a monarch. As though she had been born for this purpose, he mused, as though she hadn't just stumbled into her role as Asgardian protector of Earth like he had stumbled into his role as Captain America.

“Will you grab the bean sprouts for me?” he asked quietly, and tossed them into the wok when she procured them. As he continued stirring, he wondered what might have been if he and Thor had met before, when she was just brilliant and human Jane Foster and not also an immortal Viking space goddess. Behind him, he could hear her placing bowls and silverware on the kitchen table, then pouring water into two glasses. Dipping his finger into the wok and grabbing a noodle, he deemed his reproduction satisfactory and turned to grab one of the bowls. He piled them both high with food, knowing that Thor could eat him pound for pound.

Then he settled at the table, and his stomach flipped nervously as he watched her blow on a forkful of noodles. He took his own bite, savoring the combination of flavors that he hadn't even known existed in the 1940's, and when he looked back at her she was smiling happily and chewing. They ate quietly without speaking until their first serving was gone, and then Thor picked up his bowl to refill it before doing the same to her own.

Finally, she spoke. “'Tis as I remember it, Steven. Darcy used to order this for us in London, and... I remember favoring it when I was writing my graduate thesis.”

“You remember that?” he asked, his head tilted. He'd been too constrained by his ideas of privacy and respect to prod into how exactly her mind worked, how it could hold both Jane and Thor.

“I remember everything,” she said simply, taking another bite.

“What do you think about what Fury and this, uh, sorcerer... Strange, told us today?” Steve asked, not wanting to bring the conversation back to work but unable to let go of the threat that had been laid out for them at the meeting earlier.

“I believe they understand its seriousness, the reports they have match what Heimdall has seen. Thanos the Mad Titan is no demigod to be bargained with or outmaneuvered easily, he cannot be defeated with guns and arrows. We will need more warriors, more allies, and more infinity stones if we even hope to check his power,” Thor answered softly.

“God, I remember when the worst threat to the world was HYDRA and the Red Skull. I thought... I thought I'd never see anything more horrific than his face,” Steve said. He looked back into his bowl, empty now, and sighed.

“Things may grow darker, but we must not lose hope of the dawn,” Thor reassured him.

“And, uh... Odinson?”

“Heimdall tells me he is making progress, and his discoveries shall be of great use to us in our forthcoming battles.”

“When he comes back, will you... be Jane again?” Steve slid his spoon around his bowl, swirling designs into the last of the coagulating sauce.

“I do not know. We must convene, he and I, when that day comes, and decide who is the rightful bearer of Mjølnir, I suppose,” she murmured.

“What if it's... him?”

“Then it is him. I do not carry Mjølnir for my own ego. I do it for Earth, to keep Loki and Thanos and the others at bay. Should it be Thor who must carry the hammer, I shall not mourn the loss.”

“What will you do, if he takes it back?”

She sighed with fulfillment as she ate the last of her noodles, dropping the fork into the bowl as she pushed it away from herself. She sat there chewing for a moment, ruminating on her answer. Finally she said, “I shall resume my study of astrophysics. It is a strange thought, to know my life might pass the ordained date of its expiration, but I suppose I shall try to share all that I have gleaned from Asgard, and anything else in my ken.”

“You won't fight?”

“Not unless I am needed,” she answered.

“Do you want to be fighting now?” he pushed.

“No,” she confessed, “I am proud to bear the duty that I have, and yet... I sometimes wish I had never touched Mjølnir.”

“Will you... try to find somebody, a partner? Have a family?” Steve wondered, almost reaching the question he'd been trying to find a way to ask her for months.

She did not answer, but blinked at him curiously. “Should I meet a man worthy of the task,” she said slowly, “And I feel I am prepared to bring a child into this world. Then yes, perhaps I shall.”

“Wh-what...” Steve had come so far in this conversation, farther than he'd ever had the nerve to push before, and he felt himself losing heart but knew he needed the answer, was desperate to understand the workings of this woman's mind. “What would make him the right man for the job?”

“What an intriguing question, Steven,” she murmured, taking a sipping of water before continuing, “Why ever do you ask?” She was grinning, but her grin faltered when she met Steve's hungry blue eyes. She stood up, walking around the table and peering down into his handsome face.

“Steve,” she spoke. “Hammer or no hammer, I am as much a woman now as ever I was.” She let that lay between them, waiting for him to speak, and finally he turned, opening his legs and pulling her towards him. She bent down, curling her torso towards his as he leaned up to kiss her reverently, softly. When they pulled apart he took a shaky breath and met her eyes again, asking, “Would you... want to get a coffee with me some time?”

“Perhaps,” she answered, “But presently I do not need coffee. I would, however, like to see your quarters.”

His eyes roved over her face longingly, taking in her elfin features, then he pushed himself up off the chair and rose, close enough now that his thighs pushed against her stomach. He ran his hands up her back to hold her sharp shoulder blades as he pulled her in to kiss her, and his stomach flipped again when he felt her sigh happily. Despite the devastating power he knew she held in her slim arms and thighs, he had to bend almost in half to kiss her properly, and frustrated with the angle, he grabbed her by the hips. She lifted her legs trustingly, not even breaking the kiss, and gripping them carefully, he carried her with ease across the kitchen. He distributed her on the counter then stepped between her thighs, his hands mapping the new territory of her waist, then her breasts.

“If we do this...” Steve began, breaking away from the kiss to pull in air, “Can I call you Jane? I don't think I can...”

“Yes,” she interrupted breathily, “I understand the problem. Darcy has explained it to me. You may call me Jane, Steven Rogers, and you may touch me, and you may take me to your bed.”

He nodded solemnly, whispering, “Yes, Jane,” then brought his lips back to hers, deepening the kiss and rejoicing in the feel of her slim hands clutching his waist. Although they were both all too aware of how dark the future might become, they each took solace in this hesitant beginning, in finally igniting the spark of attraction that had smoldered between them since their first meeting, in the feeling of respect and need from someone that each had deemed so infallibly, irreversibly worthy.

*

“So... Jane.”

“So. Darcy?”

“Kinda looks like the world's about to end, either from this anti-metahuman act or from the evil super-god dude that Bucky was telling me about.”

“Indeed, there are many threats both home and abroad.”

“You don't seem scared.”

“I believe we will prevail, Darcy. I have faith in the Avengers, and in Odison, and the sorcerer Doctor Strange.”

“Cool cool. That's cool. I'm feeling kinda worried though.”

“Do you not trust in our ability to save ourselves?”

“Yes? Mostly yes. But also, I'm like... ridiculously happy. I have you, I have Bucky, I have my family, I have this important job... it's scary, I guess. It seems like I could just finally be getting my life together and then everything is gonna fall apart.”

“Take heart, Darcy. Have hope. There are many who will stand with us against the Mad Titan.”

“...Yeah. Okay. Whew. This is me, taking heart okay? Look at all this hope, it overfloweth and stuff. So, happier topic. How do you like that white wine spritzer?”

“Truly nectar of the gods, I thank you for it.”

“Good. Now... dish.”

“What shall I dish about?”

“Uh... dude. Come on. Captain America.”

“We have... an accord. He is a fine man.”

“Oh, he's _fine_ alright. An accord, is that right Janey? Sounds like fancy Asgard-speak for hittin' that.”

“Indeed.”

“You _are_?!”

“Oh... _Indeed_.”

“Like, just... congratulations, you somehow managed to bag both of the gigantic blonde hotties in the Avengers, so well done there. I tip my hat to thee.”

“Yes... I am a most accomplished woman, am I not? Nevermind my worthiness to carry Mjølnir, my PhD or the Nobel Prize nomination, of course...”

“Oh please, everyone knows you're the worthiest of them all and the brainiest brain in the astrophysicist game. But that's not, you know, the juicy stuff.”

“Ah, indeed. It is not. Steven is a... very thoughtful lover. I am pleased with him.”

“Girl, get it. Alright, now, movie choices. Thelma and Louise or Steel Magnolias?”

“...”

“Jane? What, no movie?”

“Darcy, I do not wish to watch a movie. I have a better idea for how to pass our afternoons, this one and those of the future.”

“Uh... okay. What d'you have in mind?”

“You are going to learn to defend yourself in battle. I am going to teach you.”

“Um. Yes? Hell yes. Awesome. Let's do that. Hey Janey?”

“Yes, Darcy?”

“You're the best.”

“Aye. Now stand up, block your torso with your fists, then show me what you can do with them.”

“You got it, boss lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Belt of Venus, Venus's Girdle, twilight wedge, or antitwilight arch is an atmospheric phenomenon visible shortly before sunrise or after sunset, during civil twilight, when a pinkish glow extending roughly 10–20° above the horizon surrounds the observer.
> 
> As twilight progresses, the glow is separated from the horizon by the dark band of Earth's shadow, or "dark segment." The arch's light pink color is due to the backscatter of reddened light from the rising or setting Sun. A very similar effect can be seen during a total solar eclipse.
> 
> The name of the phenomenon alludes to the cestus, a girdle or breast-band, of the Ancient Greek goddess Aphrodite, customarily equated with the Roman goddess Venus.


End file.
